Blank Slate
by JulienneLight
Summary: "You and I are not the same, my son. Yours is still a blank slate, and though I am sorry to say that it has been tainted by your heritage, you can still start over." In which Scorpius Malfoy struggles to not let his ancestors' mistakes define him, and Rose Weasley endeavours to be more than just the daughter of THE Hermione and Ron Weasley.
1. Prologue

**Harry Potter belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling.**

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Chapter 1

As soon as Scorpius stepped onto the 9¾ platform, he heard the whispers. Not that he was surprised, really. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. Everywhere he went, as soon as people realized that he was a Malfoy, son of _the_ ex-death eater Draco Malfoy and grandson of _the_ Lucius Malfoy who was still in Azkaban, the whispers would start. Some didn't even bother to whisper – they outright talked about him as if he wasn't there. And it wasn't just any talk. It was accusations, insults, and sometimes even threats.

Scorpius had been bewildered at first. What had happened to turn the wizarding world against him?

When he asked his father, Draco Malfoy had pulled him aside, looked him right in the eye solemnly, and told him the whole story of the Dark Lord's second attempt to take over the world.

"He failed." Draco reassured his son, upon seeing the frightened look in his eyes. "Or rather, someone stopped him."

Then, Draco told his son of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and how with the help of his friends, the young hero saved the world.

"Whoa," Six-year-old Scorpius said, eyes shining with adoration. "He's awesome!"

"Er," Draco's smile became slightly forced, but his son was too busy mentally worshipping Harry Potter to notice his father's sudden discomfort.

"Wait, but Father," Scorpius's look of awe turned into a frown of confusion. "What does that have to do with us?"

Draco sighed. This was the part he had been dreading. _It's time for him to know anyway. _Draco comforted himself. He never was one for protecting his son by keeping him in the dark. _And besides, _he thought to himself, _better he hears the true story from you than some twisted version of it from a stranger. _

"Scorpius, your Grandfather and I, we both helped Voldemort. The true reason why you never see your Grandfather is because he's in Azkaban."

Scorpius froze. For several minutes he didn't say a word. Draco watched his son anxiously as he tried to gauge his reaction.

Then…

"Why?" Scorpius finally whispered.

"I was young and foolish." Draco sighed again. "I saw only the power and honour I would gain by joining Him. I believed in His whole pureblood superiority notion. I soon regretted it though, and realized the pureblood thing was only a cover, an act to gather supporters. I wanted out, but He threatened to kill my parents. There was nothing I could do."

"Then why aren't you in – in Azkaban?" Scorpius's voice faltered.

"I've never killed." Draco admitted quietly. Draco couldn't deny the pride which the words brought. While he'd done horrible things under the influence of the Dark Lord, he had never killed. Draco was rewarded by a small sigh of relief from his son at this revelation.

"And, I didn't participate in the last Great Battle. I…ran away, I suppose you can say." Draco went on.

While Scorpius looked more at ease, the troubled expression never left his visage. "But you still followed him. You were still a – "

"A Death Eater, yes." Draco finished grimly, looking as if just uttering the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I'm sorry, son. I've made wrong choices in the past, and I'm afraid those choices will affect you. If I could change the past, believe me, I would do everything in my power to do it. Unfortunately, the past is set already, and nothing we do can alter that. But you, my son, you and I are not the same. I may not have killed, but I will forever be known as the Death Eater who caused Dumbledore's death, and watched Hermione Granger tortured by my own aunt without lifting a finger. You however, have a chance. Yours is still a blank slate, and though I am sorry to say that it has been tainted by your heritage, you can still start over. Work hard, Scorpius, and achieve great things. Prove to the world that you are not just a Death Eater's son, but Scorpius Malfoy: a successful and brilliant young man.

Draco Malfoy's words stayed with Scorpius through the years. Not a day elapsed without Scorpius mulling over the words.

And so, as Scorpius stepped onto the platform, he did so with the resolve to work as hard as he could so as to be known as himself, instead of by his heritage, and to make his parents proud.

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**So, I've always liked to think that the war changed Draco - changed him for the better - and that it would be reflected by how he raised his son Scorpius. Hence, this story. Suggestions are of course welcome, so please review :)**


	2. At first sight

Rose Weasley gazed around at the familiar sight. It was hardly the first time she'd visited the magical platform – in fact, for nearly as long as she could remember, every September, her entire family would head off the 9 ¾ platform to see one of her numerous cousins off. There was first Teddy (who she'd always counted as a cousin even though they weren't technically related by blood) and Victoire, then Dominique, Fred and Roxanne… The list went on. But this time was different, because this time, it was _her _turn to board the train to Hogwarts. Just the mere thought brought an excited smile to Rose's lips.

"I want to go too!" Lily's tearful complaint brought Rose back from her thoughts.

"Take us with you," Hugo begged.

"Don't worry, kids, we'll send you stuff from Hogwarts." James grinned, mussing up his hair surreptitiously. Ginny frowned in disapproval at her son, conjured a comb, and started running it through James' hair. She paid no attention to his indignant complaints of "Mum, let go, you're embarrassing me!" Fred watched his best friend's suffering from the side, cackling gleefully.

Rose glanced at her favourite cousin. Normally, Al would've jumped at a chance like this to tease James about his plight alongside with Fred. It would, after all, be a precious chance to get back at his older brother for all his needling. This time though, it seemed as if Al was too nervous to have the heart to partake in such frivolous proceedings.

Al had never been the most talkative at the best of times, having inherited his father's more quiet nature, and what with his nerves, he'd practically become mute.

"Al, relax, no one will care if you're sorted into Slytherin," Rose told her cousin in exasperation, correctly deducing the cause of his anxiety. After all, she'd grown up with Al, and knew him better than even own his parents did. Besides, James' teasing all summer about Al becoming a snake in the Lion's den, which had more than likely led to Al's paranoia, was also a dead giveaway.

At any rate, Al flushed, silently, and completely unintentionally, confirming Rose's guess.

"Al, listen, to her, she's talking sense." Harry Potter wrapped an arm around his son's shoulder, while winking at Rose. Rose grinned back at her good-natured uncle.

"Of course she's talking sense, she's Hermione's daughter." Ron said seriously.

"Ah, but she's your daughter too, Ronnie. Every day, I wake up and thank the heavens that Rosie inherited Hermione's brains." George Weasley, who was also here to see his children Fred and Roxanne off, teased.

"That's only because Ron has no brains to inherit from to start with," Ginny, having finally released James, who'd immediately ran off with Fred, muttered under her breath.

"Oi!"

The familiar family bickering seemed to have a soothing effect on Albus, and the tension slowly eased out of his shoulders. He soon joined into the conversation with a jibe at Ron of his own, something about getting hit by too many Bludgers while playing Keeper in school.

As the bickering went on, Rose started to lose interest, and she cast her glance around the platform. It was chaotic as usual. Everywhere, owls were screeching, cats were yowling, and toads – which had seen another rise in popularity after the wizarding public discovered that Neville Longbottom, revered War Hero, was in fact the proud owner of a toad – were croaking. Meanwhile, students were either biding excited farewells to their parents, or greeting their own friends loudly.

Then, Rose's eyes fell on a curious trio who were defying the normality. They were standing in a quiet corner of the platform, keeping to themselves. The trio, all blond, consisted of a man, a woman, and a boy who was quite evidently their son. As Rose watched, the woman hugged her son tightly, looking tearful. Then, the man bent down, and spoke to the boy for a few moments. They both looked very serious. Finally, the man embraced his son as well.

"Mum," Rose tugged on her mum's sleeve.

"Yes, dear?" Hermione looked to her daughter curiously.

"Who are they?"

Hermione followed her daughter's gaze, and her eyes brightened in recognition.

"That, dear, is Draco Malfoy, his wife Astoria Malfoy Nee Greengrass, and their son, Scorpius Malfoy." Hermione listed out, adopting her 'dispensing information' tone.

"Just tell us all their middle names too while you're at it." Ron snickered. His comment earned him a disparaging look from his wife, and he hastily stopped talking.

"Come to think of it, young Scorpius is starting his first year at Hogwarts as well, isn't he?" Harry remarked, having listened in to their conversation. The comment, while partly genuine, was mainly a subtle attempt at diffusing the tension between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley by redirecting the conversation.

"Huh, that's Malfoy's son, is it? Well, make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie," Ron told his daughter. Once again, this comment was only half genuine. While part of Ron really did want to see Draco Malfoy's son beaten by his daughter (old habits, after all, die hard) the main purpose of this statement was to continue what Harry had started, which was to say, distract Hermione. He, after many years of working together with Harry, had practically established a telepathic connection with his best mate, and immediately caught on to his plan. Unfortunately, his endeavour to redirect Hermione's attention only succeeded in further provoking her ire, as Hermione promptly proceeded to berate her husband on the foolishness of setting the children against each other before they even met.

But Rose wasn't listening to that. She was too busy watching the blond trio. Just then, Scorpius Malfoy happened to turn in her direction, and the two pairs of eyes met.

_He has grey eyes._ Rose remarked. She had never met anyone with grey eyes like his before. Before Rose had the time to draw any further conclusions, Scorpius turned away.

Rose's eyes lingered on him curiously long after he'd looked away.

So, we get a look at what goes on in Rose's head! Next, chapter, Scorpius' POV

Thanks to **Sunshine72 **and **decoratingscheme **for your support! :)


	3. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

**As always, Harry Potter belongs to the incredible J. K. Rowling  
**

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Scorpius settled back onto his seat, and closed his eyes, the image of his parents waving at him - his mother with a supportive, albeit slightly tearful smile on her face, and his father with a look of pride shining in his eyes – still imprinted vividly in his mind. He knew that he should be excited – he was finally going to Hogwarts, the school every wizarding kid dreamed of attending ever since they were old enough to understand what school was. At Hogwarts, he would have the opportunity to receive tutelage from the finest witches and wizards of the wizarding world, and to learn from them how to use the greatest tool in his arsenal: the magic he'd been born with.

Even as such, Scorpius still couldn't seem to fend off the doubts that had been plaguing him ever since he'd first heard the story of the Dark Lord's rise and fall from his father. What if people at Hogwarts didn't like him? What if they didn't accept him, and shunned him based on something his forefathers had done decades ago?

His parents had both reassured him that Hogwarts was a great place. Or rather, his mother had reassured him. Then again, his mother saw the good in everyone and everything, so perhaps that didn't account for too much. But even his father, who was fairly hard to please (something his mother never failed to tease him about), seemed to look back on his early years at Hogwarts fondly.

Yet Scorpius still couldn't help but feel that for him, Hogwarts wouldn't be the haven it had been to his parents.

Scorpius wasn't naïve. He knew that people judged each other based on preconceptions, whether or not they were misconceptions. And he knew that every wizard in England, young or old, would be harbouring quite a few preconceptions of him.

Scorpius had already suffered from this prejudice throughout his childhood – he'd grown up practically without any friends. Most of the pureblood families his parents had grown up surrounded by had all either fallen into such complete, utter disgrace that associating with them would be tantamount to smearing the family name with tar, or, they'd came out of the Second Wizard War untouched, but preferred to stay as far away from the Malfoy family as possible. Meanwhile, the rest of the Wizarding World, half-bloods and muggleborns, didn't accept them any more than the purebloods did.

Thankfully, Scorpius still had his family. His parents weren't oblivious to the way the Wizarding World treated them, and did their best to not only shelter their son from the hostility, but to also fill in the gaps that were meant for friends to fill. Where Scorpius had never felt the comradeship that young children would share with their companions, he was no stranger to the unconditional love of family. He knew that his father would always be there to guide him in his decisions, and that his mother would always be there to offer him support. Besides, Aunt Daphne, Uncle Blaise and their daughter Valentina, paid frequent visits to Malfoy Manor as well. Aunt Daphne was Scorpius' mother's older sister, and the two sisters were very close. Additionally, Uncle Blaise was a good friend of Draco's. These two things put together meant that Scorpius and Valentina spent a considerable amount of time together. Scorpius hadn't minded this one bit though – he had always looked up to his fierce, proud older cousin, and the latter had always been fond of him as well, so the cousins had gotten along quite famously. In fact, Valentina, who was a fifth year Slytherin at Hogwarts, and a prefect no less, was one of the few people Scorpius looked forward to seeing on the train. He knew, however, that his cousin wouldn't be showing up for a while, since she had prefect duty.

Knowing this, Scorpius stood up, walked over to his brand new school trunk, and selected a book to bring back with him. With _Equality, a dream become reality _by Hermione Granger-Weasley in his hands, he settled back onto the compartment bench, and prepared to while the rest of the train ride away in solitude.

However, Scorpius had barely read past one paragraph when distant voices floated into the compartment, through the door he'd forgotten to slide shut.

"- All your fault, Rose. Now there's no empty compartments left –"

"_My _fault? For your information, Albus, _we_ were the ones that got to the platform fifteen minutes ahead of the scheduled departure time -"

"Thanks to Aunt Hermione, I bet,"

Scorpius perked up. Hermione? As in Hermione Granger-Weasley, one of his favourite authors?

"- well actually, it was dad who kept on insisting we needed to hurry up. He'd apparently been sealed out of the barrier during his school days, and he'd flown Granddad Weasley's car to school –"

"Dad's told me that story too! Apparently they got into huge trouble though,"

The voices were getting louder.

"…yeah, they were almost expelled. I think that permanently traumatized Dad. Anyway, now he can't stand the thought of missing the train, which is how we ended up at the station way ahead of time -"

"Hey, there's an empty compartment!"

The voices stopped. A second later, two figures appeared in the doorway.

"Hi," The one who spoke first was a girl with fiery red hair. A fleeting look of surprise flitted across her face as she looked at Scorpius, but the moment quickly passed, and she smiled at him warmly, displaying her mouthful of orderly white teeth.

"Hi," The black-haired boy standing beside her echoed, smiling faintly.

"Hello," Scorpius answered. Their arrival took him completely by surprise, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do. There was a moment of awkward silence, in which everyone stared at the other. The girl seemed to be the first to realize that she should say something.

"Oh, right," She laughed, sounding slightly embarrassed. "Everywhere else is full, so we were wondering if we could join you."

"Of course," Scorpius replied automatically, the impeccable pureblood manners instilled in him prompting him to unhesitatingly demonstrate the hospitality of a generous host. "Come in."

Both of them beamed, and one after the other, they entered the compartment.

"I'm Rose, by the way," The girl said offhandedly. "Rose Weasley."

"Oh right," The boy, who'd by now made himself comfortable on the seat across from Scorpius, said. "I'm Al Potter,"

Scorpius knew that it was now his turn to introduce himself, but he hesitated. He knew who Rose Weasley and Al Potter were, of course. Or rather, he knew who their parents were; they were War Heroes. Meanwhile, he was the descendant of Death Eaters, something his last name made no secret of. Both Rose and Al seemed nice so far, but if they found out he was the son of their parents' sworn enemy, would that change? Scorpius was saved from making a decision by Rose, who snatched the book he was reading out of his hands.

"You read my mom's books?" She exclaimed in surprise. Then, she seemed to realize that grabbing someone's book without first asking was rather rude, and coloured. "Sorry," She said hastily, handing the book back to Scorpius.

"That's alright," Scorpius said, relieved that he can delay sharing his name, and thus delay the inevitable antagonism, for a while longer. "Madam Weasley's actually one of my favourite authors," He supplied.

And it was the complete truth too. Hermione Granger-Weasley had published several books, all focussed on an issue she herself had long been involved in: equality between wizards and other magical creatures. She had started off by championing the rights of House-elves, arguing that they should receive their well-deserved wages and benefits for their work. She'd also branched off to include promotion of fair, honest cooperation with goblins, empathy for werewolves, and understanding for giants, merpeople and centaurs, whom she contends are all sentient, intelligent beings who deserve to be treated as such by wizards.

Scorpius liked her works not only because he saw the logic in them, but also because through her passionate words, Scorpius could practically see what an open-minded lady Hermione Granger-Weasley was. He suspected that were he to one day meet her, she wouldn't be so quick to judge him based on the crimes his ancestors have committed. And in reading her works, he was able to maintain hope that perhaps, one day, wizards everywhere will learn not only to look past their differences and accept other magical creatures, but to also accept fellow wizards.

But Scorpius didn't tell Rose any of this, and said instead: "We pay our house-elf, Sunny, and we give him two days of holiday per month."

"Not per week?" Rose's eyes narrowed.

"That's what we initially offered, but he refused," Scorpius explained. Refused was perhaps too light of a term. The reality was that Sunny had responded to the suggestion by bursting into tears, wailing about how his masters were too good to him, and how he would rather work himself to death serving them than sit around, idling for two days every week.

Rose, however, seemed to understand, and she smiled again in approval.

Al, who'd been quietly observing this interaction, decided to join in with a comment of his own: "You should've seen Kreacher when Dad suggested that he retire. I mean, at his age, it's a miracle the elf can still walk. But anyway, Kreacher didn't even let Dad finish the sentence, he just started yelling 'No, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, Kreacher won't, won't won't WON'T'".

All three of them laughed, mostly at Al's ridiculous imitation of the elderly house-elf's hoarse croak, and Rose sat down onto the seat beside Scorpius.

"So what's your favourite class?" She inquired eagerly.

"Rose, school hasn't even started yet," Al rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"I know, I know, but there has to be a class you're most looking forward to," Rose replied. "I mean, the classes are all that I've been thinking about ever since I got my letter. I think Transfiguration sounds like the most fun. It also sounds like the hardest though. And don't let Al's indifference fool you – Al's actually looking to Hogwarts even more than I am, he just thinks he's too cool to show it –"

"Rose!"

"Al fancies Defence against the Dark Arts, by the way," Rose told Scorpius in a confidential tone, though it was pointless, considering Al was sitting barely a meter away from them. "Which, I guess would make sense, since Uncle Harry obsesses over it all the time," She added as an afterthought.

Scorpius smiled at Rose's enthusiasm.

"I think I'm looking forward to Care of the Magical Creatures the most," He admitted.

"Care of the Magical Creatures? But that doesn't start until third year," Albus protested.

Scorpius shrugged.

Rose's eyes widened in excitement. "I didn't know we were including subjects that aren't taught during first year! In that case then, I'm looking forward to Ancient Runes the most. Wouldn't it be so cool to learn a language based in magic?"

Al laughed. "What, I thought you'd be one to go into Arithmancy, Rose. Dad told me that was Aunt Hermione's favourite subject when they were at school."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "I'm not a carbon copy of my parents, you know,"

The words hit Scorpius like a pail of icy water. _I'm not a carbon copy of my parents… _Finally, someone understood. Yet would they understand that about him, when they found out who his parents were?

Al's snort interrupted Scorpius' musings. "Speak for yourself," He told his cousin. "Everyone tells me I'm identical to my dad when he was my age. It's so annoying. I mean, we always have to go shopping at really small stores outside of rush hours, to avoid having to fight through crowds of people just to buy groceries, but then a crowd forms _around _you as soon as they realize who you are! One of these days, I'm going to have to get a mask and a wig!"

Both Rose and Scorpius laughed at Albus' disgruntled expression, and the three of them fell into comfortable conversation as the kilometres flew by beneath the wheels of train.

Around noon, Al, who was in the middle of animatedly telling a joke to his avid audience, was very disgruntled to find his punchline being drowned out by a great clattering in the corridor.

"It must be the lunch trolley!" Rose realized.

"Oh good," Al said, joke forgotten, "I'm starving."

The compartment door slid open, and a smiling, dimpled woman, who had her now greying hair pulled into a loose bun, appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning, dears. Anyone want anything to eat?"

Al leapt up eagerly. "Yeah! That's three Cauldron Cakes, two Pumpkin pastries, five Chocolate Frogs and a pack of Droobles Best Blowing Gum, please!"

"Al!" Rose protested. "You know Droobles is bad for your teeth! Can you _imagine _what my mum would say if she found out? Actually, scratch that, can you imagine what Granddad and Grandmum Granger would _do _to you if they found out?"

Al visibly shuddered at the thought.

The trolley lady glanced between the two cousins, Rose, who looked openly disapproving, and Al, who appeared to be torn. "Still want that pack of Droobles, dear?" She asked.

"Yes," Al said, squaring his shoulders and throwing a defiant look at Rose. The latter rolled her eyes in exasperation, and muttered something along the lines of "well they're your teeth".

The trolley lady smiled indulgingly. "That's 5 sickles and 7 knuts," Then, she looked at Rose and Scorpius. "Anything for you two, dear?"

Rose shook her head. "I'll share with Al." Then, she turned to Scorpius. "What about you, Scorpius?"

Scorpius decided to go with a small assortment of Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pastries, and a few Chocolate Frogs of his own.

After the trolley had long gone, and Scorpius was just biting into his first Cauldron Cake, when he finally realized something. Something that froze him midway through his swallowing, which in turn led to him choking on the bite of cake stuck in his throat. Someone thumped him on the back heavily, and after quite a bit of coughing and wild inhaling, Scorpius finally managed to swallow the stubborn piece of pastry. He straightened, and breathed out heavily. He could feel the heat in his face – what had just transpired went against all the pureblood table manners he'd ever been taught.

But Scorpius wasn't even thinking of that. Instead, he demanded: "_What _did you just call me?"

Rose was still gazing at him in concern. "…Are you alright, Scorpius?"

Scorpius gaped. "You did it again,"

Rose stared him. "What?"

Albus finally stepped in, and with a roll of his eyes, explained: "Scorpius, we knew who you were the moment we first saw you in the compartment. Our parents pointed you out to us on the platform."

"Oh," Scorpius sagged. _Our parents pointed you out… _He wondered what exactly the famous Harry Potter had said about him when he had pointed him out. Nothing good, surely. But then again, if that were the case, why had Albus and Rose voluntarily sat with him on the train if they knew who he was, and what his family had done in the war?

"What's wrong, Scorpius?" Rose, who'd witnessed the flash of expressions across her new friend's face, asked.

Scorpius hesitated, unsure of how to phrase his thoughts. Finally, he said: "Why would you still sit with me, if you knew who I was?"

This time, both Albus and Rose were thoroughly confused.

"Er… is there some rule I don't know about that says wizards aren't supposed to sit in another wizard's compartment if they knew the other wizard's name?" Albus finally ventured.

Rose immediately dismissed her cousin's theory as ridiculous, saying that she'd never came across anything like that in all the books she'd read, which therefore meant that the theory had to be false. She then concluded that there must be another reason, and reverted to looking at Scorpius expectantly.

Scorpius peered at both Albus and Rose in suspicion, wary that they were feigning ignorance to make fun of him. When he found nothing but genuine confusion though, it was his turn to be perplexed.

"What, don't you know who I am?" He asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"Scorpius Malfoy?" Albus supplied.

Rose threw her cousin a dirty look. "I'm sure he didn't know that, Al,"

Scorpius shook his head. "No, that's exactly what I meant. I'm Scorpius Malfoy, and my father is Draco Malfoy, and he was a Death Eater. Don't you – don't you _care _about that?"

Rose's face softened in sympathy, while Al looked aghast.

"What, you think we would care about that?" Al sputtered. "If people judged me based on what _my _parents did, then they would expect me to turn into some kind of self-sacrificing, heroic lunatic,"

Scorpius couldn't help but smile at this, while Rose giggled softly.

"He could've worded that better, but that doesn't make it any less true, Scorpius," Rose took over, still smiling. "Like I said, we're not carbon copies of our parents, and anyone who expects us to be is a big hypocrite, because you can bet that they're not identical to their parents either."

Scorpius looked from Al's scandalized expression, knowing that for Al, the scandal was that Scorpius would expect to be judged based on something that had happened before he was born, to Rose's expression of open acceptance, and beamed. Perhaps his parents were right. Perhaps Hogwarts would really prove to be a haven, even a home. After all, one's home was where one's friends and family were.

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**Thank you to _The Hufflepuff Erudite, Williukea, , lifelong potterhead, annatraynor _for your support! Also, special thanks to _rowenaphantomhive_! And so sorry I accidentally forgot to acknowledge you last time.**

**Also, I'd like to take the time to reply to a review – because it was a guest who wrote it, I can't PM him/her, so I'll include my reply in the author's note. Dear anonymous guest: firstly, thank you for your encouragement – while I welcome constructive criticism, compliments are always nice to hear ;) Especially thank you for pointing out what you liked - now I know what I did well, and will try to keep up the good work. Finally, my goal, as well, is to keep this story from becoming a cliche – make sure to tell me if you ever notice me straying towards the dark side!**


	4. A Bending of the Rules of the Universe

**J.K. Rowling is too pro... It only makes sense that the most perfect books in the universe are written by her**

"A Malfoy, eh? Sly –"

The yell was abruptly cut short, followed by a curious noise which could only be explained as the sound of a hat choking.

"…Are you ok?" Scorpius inquired hesitantly.

"Am I ok. A Malfoy is asking me if I'm ok. Tell me, son, who did Draco Malfoy kidnap you from to pose as his son?"

"Er…"

"'Er' – he said 'er'! Never in my life – such an undignified sound coming from a Malfoy heir –"

A full minute passed before the hat's increasingly agitated exclamations receded to a quiet mumbling.

"Well. I see you're very brilliant, most brilliant indeed. You're also a hard worker, honest and determined. You've more bravery in you than all your forefathers combined… and you're comp – compass – "

"Compassionate?" Scorpius suggested helpfully.

The hat quite visibly sagged on Scorpius' head of neatly combed blond hair.

"You're filled to the brim with paradoxes, boy, you know that? Lucius Malfoy's grandson, honest and compassionate. Draco Malfoy's son, brave and hardworking."

"Hey…" Scorpius protested weakly. The hat paid him no attention.

"If anyone were to ever tell me that I would see the day when I'd even consider a house _other _than Slytherin for a Malfoy, I would've recommended a prolonged stay at St. Mungo's for them. But you, my boy, for you, it appears that the very rules of the universe are willing to bend themselves. Something, by the way, for which you should be proud of, considering that's exactly what your father and grandfather spent most of their lives trying to accomplish.

'Now, where to put you… Well, this is a real challenge. See, from the moment I first saw you, I knew you were going to Slytherin – "

"Because I'm a Malfoy," Scorpius said sourly.

"Because you're a Malfoy." The hat agreed. "I still stand by that decision, you know. You would do well in Slytherin. You're ambitious, lad. You're more humble than all the Malfoys I've ever met, put together, times a thousand. But beneath that, you've got dreams. You want to do something great, to let the world know your name."

Scorpius' mouth fell open slightly. Somehow, within the span of five minutes, an inanimate object had managed to see into his heart's deepest desires. These were hopes and dreams that Scorpius had never shared with anyone else. He'd never dared, because while he cherished those dreams, a part of his brain, the logical part, had always told him that they were impossible fantasies.

But the truth was, ever since his father had divulged to him the reason for the estrangement of the Malfoy family from the rest of the wizarding world, Scorpius had harboured the dream that one day, he would be the one to purge the family name, to redeem the Malfoy family, and to prove to everyone that people _can _change.

However, taking into account the animosity still directed to the Malfoy family nearly two decades after the end of the war, it wasn't going to be an easy task.

"Yes, it won't be easy." The hat echoed. "But you're still going to try, aren't you? Now this, this is ambition Slytherin himself would've approved of."

"So Slytherin, then?" Scorpius asked. His heart sank. While he certainly wasn't ashamed of the house of Slytherin (after all, every one of his ancestors had belonged to this house, for as long as they could trace back the family tree), he still couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being sorted there only because of his heritage. Furthermore, he knew that his landing in Slytherin would, in the eyes of the people who viewed the Malfoys as Death Eaters still, only confirm their beliefs. Finally, he also knew that there was no way Rose and Al could end up in Slytherin, and he loathed to be separated from his new friends so soon. However…

"No, not quite," The hat said. "You are ambitious enough for Slytherin. And you are certainly intelligent enough as well. Yet I choose the word "intelligent", and not "cunning", because you plan to achieve your dreams by working towards them in an honest, scrupulous manner, don't you? You plan to arrive at the ends not just by any means, but by hard work and perseverance. Now these are attributes typically ascribed to the Great House of Helga Hufflepuff. And you're compassionate enough for it too," The hat added as an afterthought, disbelief lacing its voice.

"Then Hufflepuff?" Scorpius asked. Hufflepuff wasn't bad. And the hat was right, Scorpius did want to achieve his dreams in an honest fashion – he knew what corruption and knavery led to. After all, that had been the doctrine of the Death Eaters.

"Not exactly," The hat disagreed. "The fact is, I can also see you as a Ravenclaw. As I've said, you're naturally intuitive enough. Not to mention the fact that you enjoy reading, and also possess a thirst for knowledge that mirrors that of the founder of the house of wisdom. You would fit right in with those scholars of Ravenclaw."

"But…?" Scorpius prompted.

"But," The hat paused, then made a sound as if it were swallowing. If it had a throat and actual saliva, that is. "But, more importantly than any of that, there is something else about you that I find the most special of all. You're ambitious, it's true. You want to achieve great things, and you want to achieve these things in a scrupulous fashion, without causing harm to others. And you're intelligent enough to be able to correctly analyze the situation and realize that not all your dreams are practical. Yet despite all this, despite your realization of the impracticality, even borderline impossibility of your dreams, you're still willing to try. You still _dare _to try. Fate has laid an almost impossible hand of cards before you, but you're willing to defy fate itself, to get what you want. And that, lad, that shows such pure _courage _that there is really only one house you really belong in: that of Godric GRYFFINDOR'S!"

Scorpius lifted the hat off his head, and stood up shakily.

He blinked rapidly, disoriented by the sudden brightness. Yet, even before his eyes had adjusted enough for him to see the stunned expressions everyone in the hall – student, teacher or ghost – was wearing, he knew that something was off. The silence, for one thing, was a dead giveaway. For every other first year that was Sorted, applause, be it polite or tumultuous (the latter typically occurred when said first year was sorted into Gryffindor), always followed immediately. For Scorpius, however, there was no applause.

As Scorpius stood, looking out into the hall, all he could see was a sea of blank, uncomprehending stares. And all the joy that had built up during the train ride dissipated, leaving a hollow, cold feeling.

_It won't be easy…_

The Sorting Hat's words echoed in his mind, haunting him, taunting him.

Then…

Cheers. They were quiet, yes, but they were definitely cheers. Scorpius scanned the hall wildly, and located the source of the cheers. In the middle of the hall, still waiting to be Sorted, stood Al and Rose, both clapping fiercely. Every eye in the hall was focussed on them, but Al and Rose only straightened their backs defiantly, and continued their applause. Rose caught Scorpius' eyes, and gave him an encouraging smile.

And Scorpius felt warmness flood through him, thawing the ice that despair had breathed onto his heart.

It certainly wouldn't be easy. But that didn't mean that he couldn't succeed, especially with friends like his at his side.

Slowly, applause picked up around the hall, hesitant at first, then gradually growing louder until it reached a respectable volume.

Scorpius slowly placed the Sorting Hat on the stool, and walked towards the Gryffindor table. He could still feel several hundred pairs of eyes trained on him, but he didn't look around. Instead, he straightened his back, and walked on.

When finally, he arrived at the table, the applause had already died down, and to Scorpius' gratefulness, most of the students were now focussed on the next First Year, who was already on the stool. Scorpius quietly slipped onto the bench at the furthest end of the table, and then turned his attention as well to the Sorting.

Thank you so much to Shiranai Atsune, TreyFury97, alondramildret and AllisonReader for your support! And thank you especially to lifelong potterhead for your continued interest!

This chapter is fairly short, but I personally like it a lot

Next chapter, we get to see Al and Rose Sorted


	5. The Sorting, Part II

**Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, and I am not making any profit off of this fanfiction. **

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POV: Al

As Isabelle Perrault stood up amidst enthusiastic applause and made her way to Slytherin gracefully, Rose squeezed Al's hand.

"Good luck, Al." She told him, with an encouraging smile.

Al tried to smile back, but his muscles seemed to have forgotten how, and what ended up appearing was a pained-looking grimace.

"Potter, Albus," Professor Longbottom read in a clear voice that easily carried through the great hall. He caught Al's eyes, and grinned at the boy reassuringly. Al tried once again to reciprocate the smile, and failed miserably once again – he instead settled for a stiff nod, and concentrated on making his way to the rather decrepit-looking hat sitting on the rickety stool. All around him, he could feel the gazes of everyone in the hall trained on him.

_It could be worse, _he comforted himself. After all, he was amongst the youngest of the current generation of War Hero descendants, and as such, some of the wonder of seeing Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix's kids at Hogwarts had already been quelled. Al couldn't imagine what things must've been like when Teddy first came to Hogwarts.

All the same however, the peoples' curiosity, while slightly appeased, was by no means quenched.

The butterflies that had disappeared over the course of the train ride suddenly reappeared with a vengeance, and Al felt sticky palms as he clenched his shaky hands tightly together. Why didn't the stool seem to be getting any closer?

As his eyes passed over the Gryffindor table however, Al saw something that finally reminded his muscles how to properly smile again. His myriad of cousins were sporting an arrangement of miscellaneous letters, which spelt out _YOU GO AL! _And at the foot of the table, sat Scorpius, who gave him two thumbs ups and a nod of encouragement.

A wave of warmness washed through Al, banishing the nerves, and he once again felt strength return to his legs. A grin was still on his face as Professor Longbottom pulled the musty Sorting Hat over his ears.

"Albus Severus Potter," A voice mused, sounding faintly amused. "What an interesting name you have,"

Al felt a flood of heat rush to his face, and he felt his grin slip off his face.

"Oh come now, don't be embarrassed, boy. You are named after two of the greatest men that ever lived. And I think it is safe to say that we all expect great things from you too, Mr. Potter."

If anything, Al sunk even more. He knew who he was named after, and he knew what they'd accomplished. He also knew that there was no way in a million years that he could ever live up to their standards. Of course, it didn't help one bit that he also happened to be the Saviour of the Wizarding World's own son, and looked like his identical twin when he was the same age, no less. It was bad enough that people already looked to him expectantly due to his heritage – it sure didn't make things better that he also happened named after the two arguably most ingenious, brave and heroic people of the century.

"Oh no, no, no, you're misreading my intent, Mr. Potter. Of course, in retrospect, I see how I should've phrased it better. But know this, Mr. Potter: I expect great things from you not because of who you are named after, or even your heritage – the thought that one's name could determine their destiny is frankly ridiculous. No, I have a feeling – and my feelings are nearly always correct – that your name will one day be known by wizards of all nations because of what is inside of you. You do not yet recognize it, boy, but you harbour such potential within you. Such honesty and compassion I have not seen in years. And you are intelligent as well, boy. All your life, you have been overshadowed by your cousin's brilliance, but here, you will get your chance to shine. And what's that? I think I see a hint of bravery, buried, but always there. It's just beneath the surface, waiting for the day when you will tap into it. Oh yes, Mr. Porter, bravery is not always about boldness in the face of trial, so you needn't worry about your anxiety over Sorting rendering you any less worthy of being Sorted into Gryffindor. Bravado is not tantamount to bravery; it is in reality the act of facing what one fears that demonstrates true courage. But the important question now – where to Sort you to…?"

Al listened to this speech with wonder. While he'd never shared this concern with anyone, in his darkest nightmares, he'd always imagined that the Hat wouldn't be able to find any quality of the Four Founders within him, and would be forced to send him home, Houseless. After all, compared to the rest of his family, he was quite unremarkable. Never, however, had he imagined that the Hat would see so many good qualities in him.

"Mr. Potter, you are not the first to hold a distorted conception of oneself. One's judgement can often be clouded when turned to oneself. But let me tell you this, Mr. Potter: Helga, Rowena and Godric themselves would've fought over you like a trio of uncivilized apes, decorum discarded."

Al blushed at the compliment. "But not Slytherin?" He wondered, noticing the omission.

"Not Slytherin. I have to say, my boy, while you possess traits of all of the other Founders, there is not so much a hair of guile in you. In fact, I would bet my rim that you're the type to wear your emotions on your sleeves. No, while your pure blood might've ingratiated yourself with the old Snake, you wouldn't survive a day in his house with your transparent nature."

All the houses, except Slytherin. Al was tempted to laugh at the irony of the situation. And here he'd been giving himself premature grey hairs all summer long at the prospect of being Sorted into Slytherin!

"Yes, you harbour traits of all three Houses, but where do you truly belong? That is the question indeed." The hat ruminated. "Let's see… while you are intelligent, and you love to read, I would say that your desire to learn is overshadowed by your compassion and loyalty. For instance, if you had the choice between spending a day in the library and accompanying your friend who has no one else to go to Hogsmeade with…"

"I would go with my friend," Al nodded, understanding.

"Precisely. So that crosses out Ravenclaw. Pity, Rowena would have been disappointed. But oh well, 'tis impossible to please everyone. Now then, here is the real question: Hufflepuff or Gryffindor? I would say that you would do very well in both of these Houses, Mr. Potter, so I am leaving the decision to you, just like I did for your father."

Al deliberated carefully. Was he kind? Well, he certainly didn't exactly make it a habit of teasing others all the time – that was James' job. Not that he thought his brother did it out of spite… wasn't it inside older sibling's job descriptions to be jerks to their younger siblings? All the same, Al thought that he was generally nice enough to people. And as for loyalty – Al knew that he would do anything for his family, and strangely enough, although they haven't known each other for too long, for his new friend Scorpius too.

"Compassion and loyalty are both exemplary Hufflepuff traits." The hat supplied helpfully.

Hufflepuff? Al turned the name over in his head, and tried to imagine himself as a Badger. Hufflepuff was nice – it certainly had the reputation of being the most welcoming House, and he would like that. But his friends… He didn't know where Rose would end up, since she hadn't been Sorted yet, but he did know that Scorpius was in Gryffindor. Nor did he miss the lukewarm reaction his new friend had gotten, not just from Gryffindor House, but from the entire school in general. Al knew that Scorpius had been worried about being accepted, and while the concept of not being accepted based solely on one's heritage was still fairly foreign to him, he supposed that if people happily accepted some due to their heritage, it would only make sense that they shunned others based on the same. And with this tidbit of knowledge in mind, it wasn't easy for Al to deduce that Scorpius wouldn't have a very easy time alone in Gryffindor. The fact that he'd been sitting all by himself in the corner of the table was a clear indication.

It was this last thought that made up Al's mind.  
The Sorting Hat saw Al's decision as soon as it was made. If Hats could smile, Al was willing to bet his beloved Lightning Flash that the Sorting Hat just did.

"Just as I thought," It mused to itself. "Such loyalty and altruism. Willing to determine one's future based on the simple desire of helping a friend. Helga would've been very sorry to lose you, but this is bound to make someone else very happy. And that person is the one and only Godric GRYFFINDOR!"

As Al stood up, the entire hall erupted in thunderous applause. Over at the Gryffindor table, nearly everyone had stood up as they applauded him. Roxanne and Fred seemed to be engaged in a competition over who could let out the loudest wolf-whistle, and James was yelling his head off. And Scorpius…

Before Al's eyes, Scorpius transformed. No longer was he the cool, reserved stranger on the train, nor the pale, vulnerable boy who'd momentarily been revealed after his Sorting. This Scorpius had cheeks that were flushed with excitement, and he too was happily yelling along with the rest of his new House. As he noticed Al looking at him, he gave Al the biggest, sunniest smile Al had ever seen in his life.

And in that moment, Al knew that choosing Gryffindor for this friend had been undoubtedly worth it.

* * *

POV: Rose

"Another Weasley, I see," The hat mused.

"Good evening," Rose greeted politely.

"Poised in the face of adversity. Coolheaded. You would do well in Ravenclaw, Miss Weasley."

"I believe you said the exact same thing to my mother," Rose replied, smiling slightly.

"And who is your – ah… Miss Granger. Or I suppose, Mrs. Weasley now. Yes, I certainly remember her. Brightest witch I'd come across in a long time… Let me tell you something, Rose. Rowena Ravenclaw's House is not known as the House of Wisdom for nothing. In all my years of Sorting, there have only ever been seven cases where a Ravenclaw student was not the first in their year. And your mother was one of these cases."

Rose smiled proudly.

"Who were the others?" She inquired.

"Can you guess?" The hat challenged. Immediately, without even thinking about it, Rose sat up straighter. She loved challenges.

"If my mother was one… I would guess that Uncle Percy was another." Percy, who had matured significantly after the end of the war, nevertheless had not been able to resist the temptation to brag to his young, impressionable nieces and nephews at least a bit about his scholarly achievements when he was in Hogwarts. And it was no secret that he was a Gryffindor too – their entire family was.

"Yes, yes, Percy Weasley. Also in your family. That's right, he was one of them alright. Although in his year, the Head Girl, Miss Clearwater from Ravenclaw, came a close second. As a matter of fact, I believe the two of them used to go out together…"

Rose's eyes bugged at this new revelation. Her Uncle Percy used to _date_? Of course, considering he was now happily married with two daughters, it shouldn't be that big of a deal. Still, Rose had trouble picturing her workaholic uncle focussed on anything other than academics while he was a student practically their age. She quickly stored this tidbit of information into the archives of her brain, intent on searching up a certain Ravenclaw Head Girl named Clearwater. After all, in a family like hers, such information could come in handy one day. One never knew when the occasion should arise, but having some blackmail material on everyone was always a good idea, and Rose had a feeling that her Uncle Percy wouldn't be very keen on the topic of his school time sweetheart brought up, especially since Rose was convinced that her Aunt Audrey's maiden name was decidedly _not _Clearwater.

"Planning ahead, I see. And stocking up on blackmail material too. I must say, Miss Weasley, I haven't seen such Slytherin traits in a Weasley since Fred and George Weasley themselves. But at any rate, you are certainly right. Please proceed."

"Albus Dumbledore?" Rose guessed. While the Headmaster of Hogwarts had died years before Rose was born, she was no stranger to the tales of his greatness. Her parents and uncles and aunts often mentioned him – referring to him as a genius, albeit a mad one. And Rose also knew from _Hogwarts, a History_, which contained a list of the names of all the former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts as well as their houses, that Albus Dumbledore was a Gryffindor.

"Very good, very good," The hat said. "Can you think of another?"

"Er…" Rose's mind worked furiously. Dumbledore's name reminded her of a certain cousin of hers, which in turn led her thoughts to someone else, which was why the response she ultimately came up with was: "Severus Snape?"

The hat trembled violently and inside her head, Rose heard a deep chuckle. She supposed that this was the equivalent of a talking hat's laughter.

"Very good, Miss Weasley. Very astute. Unfortunately for you, Snape was actually _not _top of his year. Not that he wasn't capable, of course – had he tried, I've no doubt that he would've at least been able to tie the Gryffindor that held that position of prestige at the time."

"But then…" Rose was confused. Then, she understood. "Oh, of course! Because he was Slytherin, he didn't want everyone to be able to see his true potential, so he hid his talent. That's so smart!"

"Precisely." The hat approved. "You are very intuitive, Miss Weasley. That took some speedy deduction skills."

Rose however, was already entirely fixated on another question to pay attention to the compliment.

"Who was the Gryffindor in Snape's year?" She inquired curiously.

"I think you would be very interested to know the person in question. Her name, as I am sure you would recognize, is Lily Evans."

Rose blinked, and thought hard. Did she know someone named Lily Evans? After a long moment of attempted recollection, she was forced to conclude that no, she did not in fact know anyone named Lily Evans.

"Really now," The Hat said, sounding surprised. "Well this is unexpected,"

"Why should I know her?" Rose asked. She hated not knowing something.

"Well, other than the fact that she's arguably the Saviour of the Modern Wizarding World as we know it, she also happens to be related to you. Related by marriage, that is."

"Saviour of the Wizarding world?" Rose asked, taken aback. "Isn't that Uncle Harry?"

"Funny you should say that, considering Lily Evans is his own mother."

Rose felt her mouth fall open slightly.

"But that's a long story meant for another time. Now, you've done quite well in this little game of ours, and most of the other names, I wouldn't have expected you to know anyway. The first, you may have been able to guess. That is Minerva MacGonagall, current Headmistress of Hogwarts. Very brilliant student, had a gift for Transfiguration that rivalled that of Dumbledore's. Of course, a brilliant Headmistress as well."

"Oh…" Rose breathed, then mentally kicked herself, disappointed at not having thought of such an obvious choice.

"It is often the most obvious things that are the easiest to miss," The hat comforted.

"Who are the other students?" Rose asked a moment later.

"The only Hufflepuff amongst them, and living proof that Hufflepuff is _not _full of duffers, was a young wizard named Cedric Diggory."

"The Triwizard Champion who won the same year as Uncle Harry did," Rose immediately spoke, recognizing the name from a book she'd read on the Triwizard Tournament and its Champions. She'd taken special note of Cedric's name, not only because he'd won in the same year as Harry Potter did, but also because that was the only year in the Tournament history where there were two Triwizard Champions.

"That's right." The hat affirmed. "He died right after winning the tournament, you know. Killed, at the orders of Voldemort."

Rose shivered. She'd certainly heard of Voldemort. He was the force of Darkness that her parents and family had fought so bitterly against in the Second Wizarding War.

"Which brings us to our very last person, and the only Slytherin in the list. Voldemort."

"Voldemort?!" Rose exclaimed in surprise. The more she thought about it though, the more it made sense. For a villain to be so powerful, it would only make sense that he were a genius too.

"Voldemort." The hat agreed. "Or, as he was known back in his school days, Tom Marvolo Riddle. Head Boy. Winner of the Special Service to the School award. Heir of Slytherin himself. Eventual mass murderer and leader of the Death Eaters. He tried to burn me, you know," The hat suddenly inserted indignantly.

The final statement was so out of place that Rose had to bite her lips to keep from laughing, sensing that such an action would probably incur the hat's disapproval. This was, after all, the being who was to determine her fate, and as such, it was probably in her best interest to not antagonize it as much as possible.

In an attempt to ingratiate herself with the hat, Rose said:

"It's incredible how you still remember pupils you've Sorted nearly a century ago. You must have an impeccable memory."

"Why, yes, you are quite right, Miss Weasley. In fact, I happen to remember every single student I have ever Sorted, starting from the days of the Great Founders themselves. Rather akin to how Ollivander remembers every wand he's ever sold. And speaking of Ollivander, now there was a talented pupil. Ravenclaw through and through, that one - I had him nailed as a Ravenclaw the moment I saw him, and I still stand by my decision. So many major breakthroughs in the art of wandmaking… Such talent… I am nearly always right, you know. The House I choose for the individual is almost always the one that is the most befitting to them. Of course, there are rare cases where the individual changes as we progress through the years, and times when I think we Sort too early…"

The hat fell silent, seemingly losing himself in his thoughts.

Rose took this chance to stretch a bit, and suddenly realized how sore she was. And this in turn reminded her that she'd been up on the stool for quite a while.

Rose cleared her throat pointedly.

"Ah, yes, of course… The Sorting." The hat said, seeming as well to notice for the first time how much time had gone by. "I must say, Miss Weasley, you make for an exceptional conversationalist. Most of the First Years I meet are either incredibly anxious about the Sorting, or so entirely fixated upon it that they barely have the thought to spare any time for me. After all, I'm just a dusty, decrepit, and slight burnt hat." The hat sniffed.

"Then it's their loss that they've missed out on such a great opportunity," Rose reassured the Hat. Immediately, she could feel it sitting up straighter on her head. In fact, if hats could preen, Rose was convinced that it would be doing so right now.

"Now, you have no idea what a comfort those words bring me, Miss Weasley. But back to the Sorting. Where to put you…"

Rose straightened again. This was it. The crucial moment.

"Well, as I've said, you certainly are intelligent enough for Ravenclaw. You're very brave as well, Miss Weasley. Applauding young Scorpius Malfoy when no one else did, that took courage. Of course, it also shows your open-mindedness and willing acceptance of others, which is a trait Hufflepuff painstakingly sought out amongst her students. And last, but certainly not least – you have such ambition, Miss Weasley. I see your desire to achieve great things, perhaps things greater even than what your parents have accomplished."

"I only want to live up to their names, not overshadow them," Rose said quietly.

"Of course. Ambition is not something to be ashamed of, Miss Weasley. Quite the contrary – all those that were great would not have been able to accomplish that which they did without their ambition. And while each of the four Houses are homes to countless great men and women, it is doubtlessly Slytherin where the truly ambitious belong. And I must say, your guile regarding the matter of blackmail impressed me, and certainly would've earned old Salazar's approval as well."

"Slytherin then?" Rose was surprised. None of her family had ever gone to Slytherin. It was true that the current generation of the great Weasley family had begun to deviate from the Gryffindor line, with Victoire attending Ravenclaw, and Dominique a Hufflepuff. Yet… Slytherin? The house that was the archrival of Gryffindor? Even though Rose herself had always personally considered the rivalry to be immature and ridiculous, she'd never expected to land in the house of Snakes herself.

But then, she remembered what Uncle Harry always used to tell her: that Slytherin was just as great, if not greater than the other three houses, and that their ambition combined with their cunning made them practically unstoppable.

Unstoppable. Rose liked the sound of that.

"That's right," The Hat murmured, "No one is exclusively brave, or uniquely intelligent, and you, Rose Weasley, possess traits of all the four Houses in you, just like everyone else. But while you would fit quite well into any of the four Houses, there is only one house that will make you truly great, and that is the house of Salazar SLYTHERIN!"

Rose lifted the old hat off of her head, and stood up. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the new lighting, she saw the hundreds of gaping stares directed towards her. The Slytherins themselves looked confused, as if unsure whether or not they were supposed to clap for their new housemate. Everyone else looked equally befuddled – in fact, as Rose scanned the Gryffindor table, she saw all her cousins, Al included, staring back at her with their jaws hanging.

Rose noted with a sentiment of irony that this was slightly reminiscent of the aftermath of Scorpius' sorting.

Yet speaking of Scorpius…

There came the horrible scraping noise of a bench pushed back, and the sound of a single pair of hands clapping resonated through the Great Hall. It was, of course Scorpius. As Rose's eyes met Scorpius', they shared a knowing smile.

Scorpius' applause had the effect of a wake-up call, and suddenly, applause filled the spacious chamber. And amidst the cheering, Rose walked briskly down to the Slytherin table – her new home.

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**A big thank you to AbbyRose24, .9887, The last Drakonnan, LoveLoganNiallGrey, DragonGlass, TessHardingfan, dancerengland, gleekingpotterhead, more commas than necessary, harryislife, and lifelong potterhead for your support! And I'm really sorry I disappeared for so long.. it's been quite busy lately. But this chapter is longer than usual, so hopefully that makes up for it!**


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